Love the Way You Lie
by boldlikeblack
Summary: Follows 'Lie to Me'.  True romance is a messy tangle of love and lust.
1. A Foundation of Stone

**Disclaimer:**** Who doesn't own Glee? *raises hand* Just so we're clear. This'll by my only disclaimer for the whole story.**

**A/N:**** Brace yourselves, this is gonna be a longwinded note.**

**1) We've come to the last story in the 'Lie' series. There's too much story in my head for merely another one-shot, so we're venturing into the land of multi-chap. Some of the chapters may be shorter (namely the first two to four), but I hope you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me if I manage to update regularly.**

**2) Choosing 'Love the Way You Lie' as the title is a reference to the song of the same name by Eminem featuring Rhianna (which, consequently, I also don't own). I am in no way meaning to glorify the violent and destructive relationship portrayed in the song, nor do I condone domestic abuse. My inspiration was this line: **_**Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano/All I know is I love you too much to walk away though**_

**3) This is going to be rated M for a reason. There will be coarse language, nudity, violence (sports related and not). It's also listed under angst for a reason, it's not going to be one of those stories where they suddenly fall in love and live happily ever after and everything is perfect. I love this pairing because it's real and messy and totally not perfect at all. I just feel better about giving you fair warning, in case you're looking for fluff.**

**4) I love reading your reviews and messages. They're what inspire me to keep going. I feel really lucky to be part of the supportive community at fanfiction, and especially lucky that there are other people who genuinely support this pairing, even though it's not exactly healthy one. So let me know what you think, good, bad or ugly. The only way I can make the story better is to know what does and doesn't work.**

**Now on with the show.**

**Cheer – B**

**BBB**

It's hot and Dave's tired. His shirt is soaked through and sticking to his skin in a way that itches something awful. His arms ache and his throat is dry. It takes all his energy to drag his sorry ass up the porch steps and in through the kitchen door. He practically collapses into one of the chairs huddled around the kitchen table and his head thumps hollowly against the old wood when he lets it fall.

Then there's something wonderful and icy cold against his forehead and he sighs aloud as the condensation drips down his skin. "Thanks, Nan," he mumbles into the table.

"You can thank me by drinking that lemonade and getting your keester into the tub as soon as possible. You smell like a donkey's backside," Nan remarks mildly, opening the fridge door.

"I love you too," Dave huffs, struggling up into a sitting position and downing the lemonade in one go. He nearly chokes when Nan gives him a firm swat on the back of his head. "What was that for?" he asks when he's done drinking.

"Getting smart with me," she replies. "Now get up those stairs and get cleaned up," she says, pointing her wooden spoon at him.

Dave sighs and pushes up to stand, wincing. He lumbers up the stairs and into the farmhouse's only bathroom. Closing the door, he pulls his shirt over his head and lets it fall on the floor. He stretches out his arms, popping his shoulders and elbows, before he sits on the side of the tub and turns on the water. After spending the majority of his day baking in the Nebraska sun, Dave doesn't really want to take a hot bath, but he knows that tomorrow will be much more unpleasant if he doesn't so he turns the hot tap on full blast with just enough cold to make it bearable. He throws in a heaping handful of Epsom salts for good measure and turns to the mirror.

He wishes that it wasn't the same old Dave staring back at him. As the water runs, Dave wonders how it's possible that after a summer of spending every day getting up before dawn to bust his ass on the ice, in hopes of making up for the hockey camp he couldn't afford, followed by hours upon hours of physical labour all he has to show for it is a wicked farmer tan. It's frustrating. Sighing, he turns the water off and sits down in the tub wondering if he'll always be a chubby loser who sweats too much.

Dave doesn't spend long in the bath, since he can smell dinner cooking and he knows it won't take long. Plus, even though he'd added the Epsom salts for his aching muscles, he's not exactly one for hanging out in his own sweat. He towels off and goes to his room to change as the tub drains, slipping into a nice-ish pair of shorts and a short sleeve button down before going back to rinse out the tub. Nan's got a quirk about leaving things nicer than you found them and she gets a little upside-the-head slap happy if Dave doesn't hold to that philosophy.

He's halfway down the stairs when Nan starts hollering at him to come down for dinner. Dave takes a seat at the table as she sets down the last dish, a bowl of salad made from the products of her vegetable garden, and sits across from him. She holds out her hands expectantly and Dave covers them with his own. He follows her lead, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

"Hey God," Nan says cheerfully. "Just wanted to let you know how thankful I am for this beautiful day, the food on my table, and my grandson's company."

For the sake of his shins, Dave adds "And, uh, I'm thankful for my Nan and my Aunt Fae, hockey, and the roof over my head."

"Amen," Nan says, squeezing Dave's hands lightly before letting go.

Dave covers half his plate with salad before taking the cob of corn his nan offers and rounding out the plate with a chicken breast. He's nearly finished his salad when he notices that Nan is staring at him pensively. "Is there something on my face?" he asks, wiping his chin.

"David," Nan begins, setting down her utensils, "do you really want to go back to Lima?"

It's a surprisingly difficult question to answer. There are lots of reasons not to go back: he's now trailer trash, no disrespect to his Aunt Fae; his own father would rather step on his face than look at him; no one in Nebraska, save his nan, knows that he's gay and he doesn't have to tell them, but that several people in Lima know even though he hasn't exactly told anyone; he drunkenly kissed Kurt at prom; and hockey, which used to be his solace, might be out of his reach since he missed camp and can't really afford to play.

But there are lots of reasons to go back too: Aunt Fae would probably blame herself and get all weepy if he didn't; it's his senior year and it would be so strange not to suffer through it with the kids he's known since he was five; Kurt kissed him at prom; it wouldn't be fair to Nan to make her deal with all his teenage angst and crap; he'd feel bad about all the extra money Nan would have to spend on food and heat if he stayed; he doesn't really want to go back to being the coward he used to be before he sort of came out; and, for what it's worth, Lima is his home.

"No," he says finally, "but I have to."

Nan smiles brightly and her eyes glisten. "I'm proud of you, David," she states. "But if you change your mind, you just call me and let me know. I'll have your room ready for you before you get to the airport. I'll even call the phone company and get them to set up that interwebs thing you whine about so much."

"It's the Internet, Nan," Dave says with a little smile.

"Save room for dessert," she replies, picking up her fork. "I'm going to teach you how to make my famous cherry pie. After you swear an oath on your mother's grave not to tell a soul, of course."

"I may dig dudes, but I'm not really into the whole baking thing," Dave says honestly.

"Nonesense, David. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Now eat your food."


	2. The Old Home Town Looks the Same

**A/N:**** I went on break. I was writing and writing and writing, but I was reading too and I started to become very convinced of my own inadequacy as a writer. There are so many talented people out there telling stories about Dave and Kurt and I got down because this story wasn't coming out the way I wanted it to (in comparison to other stories I was blown away by). I hit the proverbial wall and just needed some time away. I have since thrown out my pity-party hat and am now back down to business. Hopefully I can figure out where 'Red-Handed' and 'Cursed' (TVD Tyler/Jeremy) are going. In the meantime, I give you more Lie-verse Dave.**

**Also, I fell in love with Tron Legacy and will be publishing a fic in that category soon (tentatively titled ''). I also watch The Lost Boys: The Thirst (I know, yikes right?) and am now working on my take for third Lost Boys film (since I wasn't a huge fan of The Thirst) which won't be ready for a very, very long time (I'm not sure how to respectfully tackle the Sam/Edgar dynamic in consideration of Corey Haim's tragic passing last March). For my Puckleberries, 'A Stretch of Mortal Time' is on indefinite hiatus since Noah refuses to cooperate.**

**That's the long-winded update! I missed you guys, enjoy the chapter.**

**Cheer – B**

**BBB**

"I expect you to call me every week," Nan says, straightening the placket of Dave's plaid shirt for the third time.

Smiling gently, Dave covers his nan's hands. "I'm going to miss you," he says honestly.

Nan clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and pulls her hands away to fan herself. "Don't you start that, David. I have no intention of crying in front of all these people," she replies.

Dave laughs and wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly. She'd probably smack him upside the head if he gave in to the urge to tell her how much he was actually going to miss her. It meant a lot to have her support, even though she had trouble understanding his sexuality at first.

Stepping back, Nan pats him on the cheek fondly. "This reminds me of the day your mother left for school. I was so worried about her going off to Ohio without a friend in the world. I didn't want to let her go. She told me that she was absolutely terrified, but she knew that if she didn't go she would regret it for the rest of her life," Nan explains. "I see so much of her in you, David. Not just her eyes or her smile, but her courage and her great big heart too. She'd be so proud of you."

"She wouldn't be mad that I'm...you know...that I like guys?" Dave asks, blinking quickly to hold off the unexpected urge to cry.

Nan shakes her head. "No and you can be sure that if she'd been alive to see your father react the way he did she would have stuck her foot so far up his hindparts he'd have been able to taste what kind of shoe polish she used before she threw him out and told him not to come back until he found his good sense."

Dave sweeps his nan up in another hug but doesn't trust himself to say anything. He lets her go and looks away, hoping she doesn't notice the girly tears in his eyes. She shakes her head a little when he finally looks back. "This is for you," Nan says, handing him an envelope. "Don't open it until you get home."

"What is it?" Dave asks, slipping it into his backpack.

Nan rolls her eyes. "A reward for being the only one of my grandchildren to be worth a damn;" she replies tartly, "but don't you say anything to Jared and Lindsey about it."

Dave chuckles and presses a quick kiss to Nan's cheek before he heads in the direction of security. "You call me when you land, young man!" she hollers after him. Dave waves so that she'll know he heard her before he turns the corner and disappears into the line for Security.

**BBB**

The flight is short and it sucks. Dave's never been very good with small spaces and, even though he's flown back and forth to Nebraska at least twice a year practically since birth, spending even a little while jammed inside a crowded metal cylinder that shouldn't be in the air at all is an ordeal. By the time the plane touches down in Ohio, Dave is ready to either turn into a whimpering puddle of man-mush on the ground or beat the ever-loving shit out of the next person who even looks at him the wrong way.

He's honestly surprised when he makes it to the Arrivals area without incident. Aunt Fae is easy to spot, since she's probably the only woman in shorts and biker boots in the whole place. Dave stalks up behind her and, wrapping his arms around his father's wild-child sister, lifts her off her feet in a massive bear hug. She kicks him twice before she realizes what's going on and Dave sets her on her feet, reaching down to rub his shins.

"Hello to you too," he grumbles.

"Jesus, kid," Fae says, slapping him hard on the shoulder, "you oughta know better!"

Dave impulsively sticks his tongue out at her and she pinches at it before she pulls him into another hug. He rests his chin on the top of her head and laughs when she protests. Dave doesn't let go until Fae jabs his sides in a few of his more ticklish places. When they separate, Fae is shaking her fingers out. "God damn, kid, when did you get so muscley?" she asks.

Dave shrugs because he honestly has no idea what she's talking about. If there's a difference, he can't see it. "We should probably go get my stuff," he says, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

"How's Mrs. S?" Fae asks, looping her arm around Dave's waist and pulling him in the direction of the luggage claim.

"She's the same. The farm's doing really well this year, so she had to hire some extra guys," Dave says. "A couple of them got scared off by Nan's start of the season speech, but the rest of them worked out pretty well."

Fae chuckles and shakes her head. "I hope I'm still intimidating at her age," she says.

Dave smiles cheekily back at her. "You're not intimidating now," he replies.

"Just wait 'til you get a boyfriend," Fae snorts.

Dave is upset with himself when he freezes for a split second and checks to make sure no one heard her before answering. "I don't see that happening, like, ever," he says honestly.

Fae just waves him off and heaves his suitcase off the conveyor belt. "You're adorable," she shouts as Dave goes to retrieve his hockey bag from the oversize luggage area. Dave can't fight the wince that comes after her comment and he wonders if this is what kids with mothers feel like when their mothers spit-clean their faces in public. The luggage handler chuckles a little as Dave hefts his hockey bag up. Dave gives the handler a parting glare and returns to his very amused aunt.

Fae's smirk stays in place all the way to her truck. Dave throws his stuff in the box and gets in. "No place like home," he mutters as he unrolls his window and bungees the door shut behind him.

**BBB**

Dave, no longer used to long periods of inactivity, dozes off during the trip. He wakes up as they pass the 'Welcome to Lima' sign, startling Fae out of her broken rendition of 'Carry On Wayward Son.' In retaliation, she elbows Dave in the ribs on a down shift and he appeases her by joining in on air guitar.

Fae's trailer is in better repair than it was when Dave left. There's a fresh coat of paint on the decorative shutters and someone has replaced the stairs leading up to the trailer. Fae's even replaced the sign advertising her Tarot and palm reading business. The new one is black with white lettering and a golden Egyptian eye and it swings from a post over the door. "New boyfriend?" Dave asks casually, as Fae pulls the truck into the gravel driveway.

"A good friend," Fae answers with only the barest hint of red in her cheeks.

"Guitar player or roadie?" Dave asks, smiling a little.

"Bartender," Fae answers, smacking him again.

"I've got half a mind to call child services on you, woman," Dave says, mimicking his nan's famous 'tone' and rubbing his shoulder.

"Calling it half a mind would be generous, kid," Fae says with a wry laugh.

"Ouch, Aunt Fae, you wound me," Dave replies, sticking his tongue out at her childishly.

"Remind me again why I missed you?" she wonders aloud.

"Because I'm your favourite nephew?" Dave suggests.

"I can never remember if favourite and only mean the same thing," Fae says cheekily, hefting Dave's suitcase out of the pickup box.

"Pretty sure they do," Dave replies, retrieving his hockey bag. "Either that or Google is lying to me again."

The phone is ringing when they walk in the door and Dave takes his suitcase so that Fae can answer it. Dave rolls his eyes as a goofy smile spreads across her face and heads to his room. The bed is still stripped from his effort to prevent summer-long musty sheet smell from lingering but it doesn't stop him from dropping his bags by the door, kicking off his shoes and throwing himself down.

He rests for a minute, trying to acclimatize to the peculiar incense and motor oil scent of the trailer after a summer of smelling warm wood, green fields and line dried linens. It's weird, but they both smell like home. Dave hopes that Fae won't be on the phone long, since he was supposed to call Nan when he landed, but he fell asleep on the way home and she'll go Nebraska on his ass if he waits much longer to call her. Remembering, Dave hauls himself off the bed and grabs his backpack from the pile on the floor. He fishes around in it until he finds the envelope Nan gave him. Lying down on his stomach on the bed, Dave opens it.

Unfolding the letter inside, Dave nearly has a coronary when ten crisp hundred dollar bills flutter out to land on his mattress. He counts them twice because it's unbelievable that Nan would give him that much money. Twenty dollars is her usual birthday limit and forty is the Christmas max, so a thousand is unthinkable. Panicking that Nan might be sick or dying, Dave picks up the letter with shaking hands. Fearing the worst, he starts to read.

_Dear David,_

_God willing, I won't be meeting Him any time soon, so you can stop worrying right now. I'm not touched in the head either, if that's your next guess._

_I love you. You're a smart boy who deserves a good education and all the success you can make for yourself, but I don't want you to go broke trying to get it (neither a borrower nor a lender be, young man). The way I see it, you've got no choice but to use your God given talent for skating backwards and pushing people around to get a hockey scholarship at a school far away from Lima. Consider this my investment in your future._

_You could skate before you could walk and you can't hide how much you love being on the ice. Don't give up just because you couldn't go to some fancy week long hockey camp, or because you have different tastes than the other boys. Get your keester on that ice and keep making me proud._

_All my love,_

_Nan_

Dave's so grateful that he isn't even ashamed of the few joyful tears he's shed. For the first time since he hit puberty, Dave feels like things might actually work out for him. After he finishes on the phone with Nan, he'll have to call the florist in Waverly and send her some flowers. As he goes to wrestle the phone from his aunt, Dave wonders how much it will cost to bury Nan's kitchen table in sunflowers.


End file.
